


Remembrance

by Otonymous



Category: MLQC: Fandom, Mr Love: Dream Date, love and producer, 恋与制作人 | Liàn Yǔ Zhì Zuò Rén | Mr. Love: Queen's Choice (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut, Spoilers, Vaginal Fingering, hints of exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otonymous/pseuds/Otonymous
Summary: In a world where strangers abound, friends become foes.
Relationships: Bái Qǐ | Gavin & You
Kudos: 34





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by one of the many karmas that recently hit the CN server (please see pic below) and Gavin won out in my poll of which boy to write for first! As with many things MLQC-related, you know I had to inject a dose of angst with my smut 🤣
> 
> SPOILER WARNING: for Shaw’s identity and the latest chapters in the EN server (up to and including Chapter 24; the rest is pure speculation and imagination on my part as I generally try to steer clear of spoilers on other servers)
> 
> For all my friends that are caught up on the latest chapters in the EN server, this story takes place in a timeline where MC is still unrecognized by the boys, but has developed some of that badassery I’m so looking forward to seeing in the future (I mean, just LOOK at the expression on her face in that karma; it screams “DON’T MESS” and I’m ALLLL for it LOL). That being said, please note the warnings listed above and in the tags and happy reading! 😊

_He doesn’t know you._

If there was ever any doubt, it is driven swiftly from your mind by the frost in amber eyes, the gaze that once held nothing but tenderness now tinged with suspicion and distrust.

“Who are you? How did you gain access to the classified files?”

The grip on your wrists tightens, the leathery smoothness of his gloved hand a sharp contrast to the strength in those long fingers, binding your arms behind you with ease. Gavin’s breath is hot, dancing on the nape of your neck in unhurried rhythm despite the precariousness of the situation.

What did he have to be afraid of, after all? He wasn’t the one in a compromised position, pinned against a glass wall in the Archives room - the inner sanctum of the Special Task Force headquarters.

“My patience is wearing thin. You’d better start talking.”

His voice is hushed, low and dangerous and completely out of place when directed towards you. A lifetime ago, when the biggest worry you had involved convincing a certain CEO not to pull funding from your production company, Gavin had loved you — completely and unconditionally.

Now you knew what it was to stand on the other side of that fence.

The woman you were before would’ve cowered, limbs shaking beyond control as her blank mind raced in endless circles, trying to come up with something, _anything,_ to extricate herself from the desperate situation.

Scared.

Helpless.

All the things you no longer identified with.

Your breath fogs up the glass, mere inches from the tip of your nose. Each passing second of silence sees Gavin’s brows furrow even deeper in the reflection staring back at you, his handsome features easily made out against the darkness of the surrounding hallways — dim save for the odd crimson glow marking exits and doors.

Shaw said he’d provide you with cover but apparently even he was capable of miscalculation. No one was supposed to be here, let alone his older brother. You wondered if he watched you now through the cameras panning the room; wondered whose eyes, if any, fell upon the pair of bodies pressed so tightly together they might well have been mistaken for lovers caught in flagrante.

_Lovers._

In another life, you had called Gavin yours. 

The thought settles heavy in your heart, sinking until it reaches the pit of your stomach. You knew what had to be done, hoped you had the wherewithal to make it happen. Physically, there is no contest: Gavin is much too strong and fast for you to take on. Escape now is contingent on the hope that even if he had no recollection of you, his body would still respond to the things you _knew_ he loved best.

“I bear no ill intentions towards the Special Task Force, Commander Bai, least of all towards you.”

Half-whispered, the tone of your voice is sultry, aiming to disarm. Taking a deep breath, you step back, moving closer into the curve of Gavin’s body as you ignore the awkward angle of your stance. The lapels of his overcoat brush soft against your bare shoulders and suddenly…

…you recognize that scent.

Soap on skin. Windblown hair. The memories wash over you, relentless like the undertow of a tidal wave: the letter you never opened — bloodied and crumpled. The boy with the bandaged face, thrusting his jacket over your head as he yelled over the din of pouring rain for you to make a run for the school gates. Your heart had pounded even then to be close enough to catch the subtle fragrance of his soap.

_I’m sorry, Gavin._

You feel the heat of tears rolling down your cheeks, see them glisten in the reflection looking back at you. And when you crane your neck to face him, amber eyes widen at the sight, Gavin’s grip on your wrists loosening just a bit to hear you say,

“You’re hurting me.”

Feigning innocence, you keep your gaze locked on his, letting your mouth fall open just enough to allow your tongue to sweep out and wet pink lips.

“Don’t you remember me, Gavin?”

Exaggerating the arch of your back, your bottom juts against the plane of his groin, hard even beneath layers of clothing. And when your hips begin their languid sway — tracing figure eights over his body in an attempt to persuade — the prominent bob of Gavin’s Adam’s apple signals that you are on the right track.

“I…I don’t know who—”

“Touch me, and maybe then you’ll remember.”

You let your head fall back onto Gavin’s chest like so many times before, hear the echo of his heart — racing now — when you peer up at him from beneath your lashes. Fighting against his grip, you slide your hands down and over the outline of his hardening cock…slow…until you reach the hem of your skirt.

Grasp and pull. Up, up, up. Try not to shiver when the cool air hits your bare skin. Let the memories of the love you shared with this man burn bright enough to melt the ice of this Eternal Winter.

“I don’t care who sees if you don’t, Commander Bai. You have nothing to fear from me. I’m unarmed. Check for yourself…”

Barely breathing now, you maneuver — cautious — until your palm is pressed to his. Gavin’s fingers twitch and you seize the opportunity before it flees. It is now _your_ hand that grasps his, bringing it down and around the curve of your hip until it slides beneath the lace of your panties.

“Hm…”

Gavin moans despite himself to feel the heat radiating from your core even through leather, distraught at how uncharacteristically he was behaving. He was seasoned enough to know when he was walking into a trap and yet, there was _something_ about you that told him you weren’t lying; that he _did_ know you even if he had no recollection of ever laying eyes on you in his life.

Maybe that was why he let himself be led, allowing your touch to ease the disquiet in his chest to feel like he finally found something important he once lost without even realizing it.

Your purse slides off your shoulder when you lurch forward, hands shooting out last minute to prevent your face from kissing glass as your knees shake to feel his gloved hand rubbing circles about your swelling clit. Each stroke is torturously slow, as if Gavin were patiently getting reacquainted with the body that took very little time to respond to his touch.

You could hear it, after all — the wet sounds that accompanied the movement of his fingers, especially now that the middle and index were beginning to traverse the length of your slit, curving at your entrance to gather the arousal that pooled.

And when he holds up his hand before both of you, the sticky sheen that darkened leather in places makes you blush before all thoughts of self-consciousness are swept away by the sight of Gavin licking from knuckle to tip, white teeth biting to pull the glove off one hand, then the other.

You feel the heat of his skin now, the roughened callouses on fingers and palm sweeping gently along the line of your jaw, eyes of molten gold observing every movement in the reflection of you and him on glass like an intimate portrait. And suddenly, there is no Special Task Force, no NW, no Black Swan…no Evol. 

Nothing else but you and him.

_I love you._

The silent echo of your unspoken words settle in the darkest corners of your heart as your close your eyes, giving over to the touch of Gavin’s hands — one cradling your face as the other conforms to the curve of your breast.

“I don’t know why…”

Soft lips brush against the lobe of your ear en route to dropping kisses along the pulse of your neck.

“…but I’ll trust you this one time.”

There is an edge to his voice as Gavin pulls back, burying the tip of his nose into the nape of your neck and inhaling deep before he steps aside to let you pass.

“Go. Before the rest of them get here. Don’t ever let me catch you again.”

His eyes fall on you, scanning from head to toe before he reaches out to retrieve your purse from the floor and drape it over your shoulder.

“Gavin, I—”

You’re interrupted when the doors at the far end of one hallway slam open with a bang, STF agents spilling through with weapons at the ready. Gavin shoves you towards the exit, shouting “GO NOW!” as he makes to step between you and the approaching brigade.

And as you make your escape, running so fast each breath draws the taste of blood, you fight to keep the tears from blurring your vision, all the while unaware of the amber eyes trained in your direction…watching until you merge with darkness itself.


End file.
